


Not enough

by SweetFakeDoberman



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom John Lennon, Choking, Crying, Fluff and Smut, I can't make summaries, John is an emotional little shit, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Rough Sex, Smut, Top Paul McCartney, and getting excited because IT'S WORKING, but what's new, crygasm, just learning how to tag, this HTML shit is GREAT
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:22:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27566689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetFakeDoberman/pseuds/SweetFakeDoberman
Summary: John loves being dominated, but maybe Paul went too far.
Relationships: John Lennon/Paul McCartney
Comments: 10
Kudos: 51





	Not enough

“O-ow… ow, Macca, it h-hurts”.

“I'm glad,” said that rough voice in his back right before thrusting again with much more force, making the boy underneath him whimper and grab tightly the sheets, his soft belly spasming in his efforts to keep on relaxed.

“Paulie, I can't. I can't. Wait, please, wai-it!” he stammered and yelled when Paul started banging him brutally, ignoring John's pleas.

He would never admit it out loud to anyone else but Paul, but he loved that hopeless feeling of being at Paul's mercy, to know that he wouldn't be able to get away from him and had to accept every single thing Paul decides to do with his body. Deep down he knew he was the one in charge, he was the one approving every move. He just had to say the word or snap his fingers and Paul would stop automatically —he didn't want to hurt him, after all—, but ignoring that fact was what made their games so entertaining. 

John wanted it to hurt. Paul knew it, so his hands clasped in John's waist so hard he could feel the way the auburn haired one unconsciously tried to squirm out of the grip, one of his beautiful hands placing itself on Paul's wrist, feeling the tense muscles in his forearm as he started rising his head from the pillow where it was buried moments ago, his gaping mouth letting out high pitched moans. Paul groaned and placed the other hand on his neck, forcefully bringing him up with him so his freckled back would be pressing against the younger's chest. 

The change of the position and the pressure on his neck made it impossible for John to keep low his cries, his prostate being hit in every thrust, his vision even more blurry than when he took off his glasses about fifteen minutes ago. 

“P-Paul…” he whispered, his voice broken and wavy. The younger one kept the speed of his thrusts but smoothed them a bit when he didn't hear him using a pet name like he always does. His hands relaxed a bit, but he still held his boyfriend. Maybe he went too far. They were just starting with all this ‘dominance’ thing and maybe John wasn't really into-

His thoughts stopped abruptly when the lad's hands clasped tightly on Paul's and his full hips started moving on his own, resuming the strong pace.

“D-don't… don't…” he trailed off, but those panting words were enough for Paul to understand and resume that brutal pace, his hands adding even more pressure than before, making it impossible to breathe for him.

John felt his eyes watering, he knew that if he closed them, thick tears would roll down his cheeks. There was no oxygen in his lungs and his body started to thrash against Paul's. He felt the urge to snap his fingers and stop it. The lack of oxygen caused a pression in his tear covered face, his limbs started to feel weak and the constant hits of Paul's cock against his prostate never ceased. He felt like he was about to pass out.

Yet he didn't snap his fingers. He wanted him to continue. He gave Paul _all the control_. 

Paul felt John was getting weaker, his strangled moans were getting lower and lower, so he took his hand off his neck and reached for those soft and sweaty auburn curls, harshly tugging them backwards and making John gasp and pant loudly. When John could stand for his own, Paul's hand lowered a bit and gripped tightly his shaft, making him let out a broken sob, tears running constantly down his cheeks and throat. Paul felt his hips stutter as his orgasm approached, so he started pumping him as his other hand turned John's face towards him, angling his face so he could run his tongue over his shaky jaw and soft, flushed cheeks, drinking the salty tears.

“P-Paul, I'm… I'm..!” he couldn't end the sentence when suddenly his whole body trashed and his voice left him. His cock pulsated and his mouth hung wide open as he unconsciously pushed his body backwards, making Paul support all his weight. Paul's thrusts slowed down gradually until he stopped, always hugging John from behind. His partner's body felt limp against his chest. He kept panting and moaning slightly, that was usual for John when he reached an intense orgasm, but what wasn't normal was the sudden, broken sob that left his mouth.

“John?” but he didn't answer, the only thing that he could hear was those strangled sounds. “Johnny, I'm gonna put you down, is it alright?” Paul asked, his mind a bit blurry thanks to his recently reached orgasm, but his worry towards his boyfriend was more important. John kept crying, his hands coming to his face and wiping the tears, which seemed would never stop coming out, but he slowly nodded anyway. Paul carefully pulled himself out and positioned him down, looking at the way John kept sobbing. He looked down, trying to see blood or anything, but he couldn't spot any sign of bruises. Maybe it was more internal. He felt like the worst git on all Earth, _he had hurt John!_ Maybe he didn't read his behavior well and thought John wanted more. Maybe John forgot how to ask him to stop, and he, as the greatest arsehole in all the universe, continued nevertheless. He immediately caressed John's face, gently pulling those beautiful hands away from his almond red-rimmed eyes. 

“John-love, did I hurt you? Please, baby, talk to me…” he begged, desperation filling his insides. Maybe John wasn't comfortable with him anymore. He felt his own eyes fill with tears as John didn't answer, he just avoided looking at him, his face still flushed bright red. “Come on, darlin'. What's happenin'?”

John started shaking his head, his soft panting weakening until the only thing that was heard was his sniffing. “I-I don't know…” 

Paul frowned at the answer. “Does it hurt?” he asked, but John shook his head again, this time his watery eyes landed on his boyfriend. 

“No, I just- ” he sniffed again. “I'm alright. Suppose it was a bit… too much, I think. But not really. I don't know.” he tried to explain, his voice wavy and insecure as he averted his eyes and wiped his face again with the back of his hand. Paul stared at him and let out a relieved sigh, which didn't go unnoticed for John, whose cheeks blushed bright red again. 

“I'm actin' like a fuckin' bird…” he commented, trying to sound dismissive but failing miserably. 

Paul immediately went down and kissed him, caressing his wet locks as he slightly deepened the kiss. He kept it as soft and comforting as he could, knowing very well the way his best mate acted after sex. He'd hug him with his whole body as if he couldn't get as close as he wanted to, and then Paul would caress and kiss him, cooing and telling him how much he loved him. Then, the next day, John would come back to his usual ironic and witty self, but there was always a difference: John was sweeter towards everyone. His smile was more sincere, he was more touchy in the studio or during interviews and more constructive in their writing. He needed that reassurance, and Paul loved being the one providing it.

John always had something to express. Paul remembers that time when he confessed him the worst punishment Mimi would give to him was to ignore him. When John felt something, he had to say and explain it, and the other person had to listen. This time, he felt so incredibly overwhelmed he didn't know what to do, so his body reacted, always looking for his mate's care and affection. 

John let out a trembling breath through his nose, and Paul's hand ran down his face so he could reach John's neck again. This time his touch was gentle and loving, making John squirm a bit and deepen the kiss, the tip of their tongues barely touching, slowly moving against each other when John stopped and pulled apart. “If you keep kissing me like tha' I might pass out for real this time…” Paul chuckled. He knew John loved being treated like something precious. He started kissing his puffy reddened cheek when suddenly he heard a soft voice whispering: _“I love you”_.

It wasn't strange for them to say such things in the aftercare, but the way John said it this time made him stop and pull slightly apart so he could look at his eyes. 

“Say it again.”

“I love you.” he repeated right away.

“Again”.

“I love you, Paul.” he raised his voice a bit, as if he was pleading, asking Paul to believe what he was saying.

“One more time.”

“I love you. I love you so much, Paul, you have no idea.” he said in a weaker voice, his eyes watering a bit again. There it was again. He was feeling something so intense and overwhelming he couldn't express the way he wanted to, so his body reacted.

Paul felt it too.

“I know, Johnny. I know.”

Paul positioned himself besides John, covering themselves with the sheets and hugging John from behind, his hand landed on his soft stomach and drew little circles with his fingertips.

“You're the best thing that happened to me. I can't even express how much I love you. It's strange, but I feel as if sayin' ‘I love you’ wasn't enough. I don't even know if that makes sense.” he whispered, nuzzling at his nape. 

John quickly nodded and turned towards him, his eyes usually narrowed were big and glossy. John got closer and pecked him in the lips, so briefly that you would have missed it if you blinked. They stared at each other for a good while before a sly smile tugged at John's lips. “I know you've fucked me hard today and all, but I think your Little Paulie isn't big enough to actually hurt me. You don't hafta' worry.”

“Well, let's see whatcha say when I fuck ya' without any stretchin'” he replied in John's ear, his slur heavy in his tongue, just the way he knew John liked. And fuck if he didn't, because the heavy breath that fell from his lips said enough for both of them, making Paul chuckle again. “Well, if you want me to do it.” 

“Shut up, you're giving me ideas and my arse is pretty much stretched for tonight, thank you”. John said as he rolled, his back pressed against Paul's chest again. Paul hugged him and kissed his nape, a small smile decorating his face. 

Maybe _‘I love you’_ wasn't enough, but this was.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks you for reading!  
> I hope you enjoyed. Please, leave a comment. It's my first one-shot and I'd love to know what y'all think 👀
> 
> Thank you so much [@femininehygieneproducts](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Femininehygieneproducts/pseuds/Femininehygieneproducts) for being my Beta and for encouraging me to post it. You're amazing 💕
> 
> And if you haven't read her fics yet then WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR? They're GREAT, no shit. 
> 
> Again: thank you for reading. Have a nice day ❤️


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